


Scientist & Soldier

by ami_ven



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, but really not, community mcsheplets, maybe a little scary?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-31
Updated: 2014-01-31
Packaged: 2018-01-10 16:06:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1161781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney used to have nightmares about firing a gun— now he has nightmares about <i>not</i> firing one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scientist & Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "mcsheplets" prompt #135 "soldier"

The first time Rodney wakes up from a nightmare of running and bullets and death, he finds himself out of bed and dressed, standing in front of John’s door before he even knew he was going there. 

He hesitates for a moment, then decides that, really, it’s John’s fault in the first place, for asking him to join an off-world team, giving him a gun and teaching him how to shoot. Rodney hits the chime, but when John opens the door, looking concerned and wary, he can’t bring himself to add another thing for the major to worry about. But, he decides that if he can’t sleep, John can’t either, and invents a series of tests with the Ancient stuff they’ve found that take all night.

Most of the time, Rodney is kept too busy to have any kind of dreams, good or bad. And for a long while, his bad dreams all feature the Wraith, just like everyone else’s on Atlantis. They’re terrifying, of course, but somehow they don’t freak Rodney out like the nightmares of firing a gun. After a Wraith nightmare, he can usually manage to get back to sleep, but the bullets-and-death dreams always have him at John’s door before he’s really fully awake.

John, surprisingly, never turns Rodney away. He doesn’t even ask about the increasingly-flimsy excuses for neither of them going back to sleep. Rodney suspects that John knows the real reason, but it’s not something either of them seems ready to talk about.

Then, one night that was no different than any other night, the nightmares change.

From the beginning, they’ve always started right in the middle of the action, indistinct angry natives with arrows or spears or primitive firearms are chasing the team toward the ‘gate. And in his dream, Rodney fires back at them. His team is in danger, and he doesn’t think, just reacts with deadly accuracy. He can see every bullet hit, see the bodies hit the ground and the blood pool around them. He stares at the weapon in his hand for the split-second before he wakes up, heart hammering, to wonder how a scientist had ever learned to kill.

Only, this time, his dream self freezes. In every other dream, he’s terrified by his actions, but now it’s his _in_ actions that scare him. The angry natives are still attacking, hit team is still running for their lives, but now that Rodney wants to do something, anything, he can’t. He stares at the P90 in his hands, shouting wordlessly at himself to pull the trigger. John turns toward him, but Rodney can’t make himself move. He watches an arrow whistle past to lodge in John’s heart— 

And wakes with a start.

He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just races through the deserted halls to John’s room. The door opens, and John leans against the frame. “Hey, Rodney.”

But tonight, Rodney doesn’t have an excuse. He pushes past John, and lets the door shut behind him.

“I’ve been having nightmares,” he says. “Not frequently, and they’re not interfering with my work, but they’re… that is, they’ve always been… but this one, tonight… I _couldn’t_ , this time… and then you—”

“Breathe, McKay,” interrupts John. “Start again, and try for complete sentences.”

Rodney tries to glare, but he’s still a little unsettled. “I’ve been having dreams about missions going bad,” he says. 

“Yeah,” says John, in a voice that tells Rodney he _has_ known about the nightmares this whole time. “Yeah, I figured. And I’m sorry.”

“You— What?” Rodney frowned. Yes, he’d originally started waking John up because he’d been the one who first made him carry a gun, but it isn’t _actually_ John’s fault. “Why are you sorry?”

“Because I’m the one who taught you how to kill,” says John softly. “That’s what your nightmares are about, right?”

“No,” says Rodney. “Well, they were at first. I mean, it would probably be unhealthy _not_ to have problems with killing people, right? But tonight, I didn’t dream about shooting. I dreamed about _not being able to_. I dreamed that we were under attack, and there was nothing I could do! I couldn’t move, I couldn’t shoot. And I watched… I watched you…”

He trails off, and John moves closer. “Hey,” the pilot says. “I’m okay.”

“Well, I’m not!” Rodney cries. “I don’t even know what’s supposed to scare me anymore! When I first started going off-world, I was terrified to even carry a gun. But now? Now, I can’t imagine leaving Atlantis without one.”

Rodney realizes that at some point, he’s taken a step toward John. And this close, he can see the worry on John’s face. He’s been having nightmares, too, Rodney realizes. Probably about the same things as Rodney, just with added layers of guilt. Sure enough…

“I wish you didn’t have to, Rodney,” John says. “You’re not a soldier, you’re a scientist, and you shouldn’t have to—”

“Yes, I should,” interrupts Rodney. “Maybe I’m not a soldier, but I’m not just a scientist anymore. And if you think I’m going to let you go off-world and get chased by angry, spear-wielding natives, you’ve got another thing coming!”

John smiles. “Maybe,” he says, slowly, “I could help you…” 

The next time Rodney wakes up from a nightmare, heart hammering, John rolls closer and flings an arm around his waist, and Rodney falls back to sleep within minutes.

THE END


End file.
